


I Like Me Better

by LeilahMoon



Series: Slow Grenade [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Canon Rewrite, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Friendzone, Hogwarts Era, Hogwarts First Year, Hogwarts Second Year, Hogwarts Third Year, Series, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:20:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 20,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25939576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeilahMoon/pseuds/LeilahMoon
Summary: ---Part IHogwarts: Years One to Three---The title for this work comes from 'I Like Me Better' by Lauv---
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Slow Grenade [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1904425
Comments: 165
Kudos: 349





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic, hope you all like it! I'd love to hear any and all constructive feedback :-)
> 
> **Disclaimer:** The characters in this story are not mine, they belong to JK Rowling. I definitely do not own Harry Potter (if only). I have also, at times, taken exact quotations from the books to highlight how things can be interpreted differently from another's perspective.

_This amazing moodboard was made by @TealGray, thank you so much! (@mommatealgray on tumblr)_

* * *

Clutching the ticket in her hand, Hermione Granger glanced up and down the long carriage of the Hogwarts Express. There was a palpable sense of energy and excitement bursting from each compartment which flew steadily down the aisles. Students ran up and down calling for friends and loudly sharing their summer news.

She struggled to share their enthusiasm. Instead, her heart pounded and her face felt slick with sweat. She was keenly aware that her peers generally didn’t really like her, and she had never felt comfortable trying to make friends.

Despite the slight shake to her hand, Hermione took a deep breath and chided herself: "This is a fresh start, you're not different anymore. Come on.”

Remembering the traits of a Gryffindor, the house she desperately hoped to be sorted into, she knocked on the first carriage door she saw and pushed her way in.

A boy with white blonde hair and a pale face snapped his head around to look at her. His face contorted into such a sneer that Hermione froze like a rabbit in headlights and wondered how quickly she could back out of the compartment to run far away. However, his expression shifted almost as quickly as it arrived.

"Oh, you're not who I expected," he said.

It took her a moment to recover but she managed a small smile and replied, "Who were you expecting?"

The boy sighed and shifted back into his seat. "Certain people I'm supposed to be friends with.”

He pushed his slender fingers through his hair and gestured towards the seats in front of him. "Sit down then, if we take up more space they won't be able to come in.”

Hermione hesitated but acquiesced and began arranging her belongings neatly under the seat. Her hand hovered longingly over a book carefully slotted in her satchel but, with great effort, she refrained from pulling it out in favour of talking to her new companion.

Turning around, she smiled and held out her hand. "I’m Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?”

The corner of the boy’s lips quirked up slightly; if he was surprised at her directness, he made no comment. Reaching to grasp her outstretched palm he said, “My name’s Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.”

He noticed a slight blush creeping into her cheeks and smiled knowingly. He recalled the number of times he had been told how special he was, so the girl’s response was understandable.

They both sat and a few moments of silence passed as they gazed around the compartment. It wasn’t awkward, although not entirely comfortable either, and Draco felt compelled to break it first.

“Granger? I’m not certain I’ve heard that surname before, are you related – ” He broke off as the door slammed open.

“Uh… Draco?” a male voice said.

Draco rolled his eyes at Hermione who hid a small smile as he replied, “Yes, clearly?”

She looked at this other boy who was standing halfway between the corridor and the compartment. He was large with a shaven head and a body that closely resembled a square.

“Are you coming to sit with us?” he asked.

“No. I’ll see you later, Crabbe,” Draco replied flatly.

Despite the somewhat glazed look the boy seemed to wear he understood the dismissal and lumbered out of compartment, sliding the door shut.

As though the interlude of another person's arrival and departure gave the two first years permission to start getting to know each other, they began speaking in earnest. When the conversation turned to books, Hermione wondered whether she ought to hide her passion. She had previously been told that her lengthy speeches on the topic were one of the reasons she had no friends. There was something about Draco, however, that persuaded Hermione to stay true to herself.

“Have you read ‘Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them’?” she asked.

“Oh, yes!” Draco replied excitedly, before blushing slightly and continuing, “It was a while ago now, but the book started my interest in dragons.”

Hermione smiled, “Like your name.”

“Yes, it’s silly I know.”

“Not at all, I thought they sounded amazing,” she said quickly. “Think we’ll ever meet one?”

Draco laughed. For the first time in his life, he wondered whether he might actually be able to face one with this girl by his side. “Let’s wait a few years, shall we?”

Her eyes lit up.

To his surprise, Draco found that he enjoyed conversing with someone who hadn’t heard of him or his family. There was something liberating about the experience. He was free to be himself rather than a personality dictated by his parents.

* * *

It was hours later, but the compartment door finally slid open again.

“Draco?” This time it was a girl’s voice. “Where have you been?”

Draco sat up straighter and replied, “Nowhere other than here, Pansy.”

“Right, well, we’re almost there so come over and get ready to head off.”

“No, that’s okay,” Draco drawled. “I’ll see you in there.”

Pansy paused, quickly glaring towards Hermione before turning back towards Draco, “You _do_ know Harry Potter is on this train, don’t you?”

He hid his surprise well and said, “Of course, goodbye now.”

Pansy huffed and strode angrily from the carriage.

“Do you treat all of your friends that way?” Hermione questioned.

“No,” Draco replied. “Just those that try too hard.”

Hermione, who wasn’t quite sure what to make of this comment, said, “Why was she so keen you hear about Harry Potter?”

“Oh, father has made it quite clear I’m to befriend 'The-Boy-Who-Lived’ and who am I to refuse such a request?”

They both looked at each other, Draco shrugged and she smiled back tentatively. Before either were able to speak again, an announcement shrilled through the air: “FIVE MINUTES BEFORE ARRIVAL”.

The two began to pull their belongings together and slip robes over their shoulders as the train slowed to a halt.

Exiting the carriage together, Hermione and Draco turned in the direction of the crowds and allowed themselves to be carried along; not entirely sure where they were headed. Acting on impulse, Hermione grabbed Draco’s hand to stop from being swallowed entirely into the throng. She blushed, realising what she had done and made to pull away. One side of his lip quirked slightly upwards and he held on tightly.

As the two emerged, slightly breathless, they almost stumbled into an incredibly large man. He glanced down at them as they gazed into his beady black eyes and bushy beard. 

The giant smiled widely and boomed, “Firs’-years! Firs’-years over here! C’mon, follow me!”

Still gripping Draco’s hand, Hermione trailed behind Hagrid towards an enormous black lake and gasped. It was beautiful. The bright white moon was reflected in the glassy waters casting, what would have been, an eerie glow had it not been for the warm golden lights flooding through from the castle.

Hermione shivered; she was finally home.


	2. Chapter 2

Hagrid gestured with one dustbin sized hand towards some small boats which were slowly creeping towards the shore and called, “No more’n four to a boat!”

Excitedly, Hermione stepped towards one of the vessels, glancing briefly behind her to check Draco was still following. As she carefully placed one foot into its hull, she noticed two boys already seated turn their heads towards her.

“Hello,” she said, having now taken her seat and waiting for Draco to sit opposite her.

“Hi,” the wild haired boy with round glasses replied with a smile. “I’m Harry and this is Ron,” nodding his head towards the skinny red head.

Hermione’s eyes widened but it was Draco who responded, “The rumours are true then? They’ve all been saying that Harry Potter was on the train. So it’s you, is it?”

“Yes,” said Harry, hesitantly.

“This is Hermione and my name’s Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.”

Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco looked at him.

“Think my name’s funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford.”

He turned back to Harry. “You’ll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.”

He held out his hand to shake Harry’s, but Harry didn’t take it. “I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks,” he said cooly.

Draco didn’t go red, but a pink tinge appeared on his pale cheeks. He opened his mouth to retort, but Hermione got in there first, “Come on let’s just enjoy the journey, shall we? We’ll only get this first experience once!”

She smiled placatingly and, to her surprise, the boys all gave a slight nod; albeit turning to stubbornly stare in different directions.

Eventually the silent boat knocked against the grass mound leading up to Hogwarts. Hermione made a swift exit and began walking towards the castle entrance. She wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened between the three boys but she was disheartened at the barbs they had made. Draco had seemed kind and thoughtful whilst on the train and she was beginning to worry that this school would be just like any other.

“Hermione… HERMIONE! Wait...” a voice heaved breathlessly from a few feet behind.

She paused.

“Why did you just run off like that?” Draco asked as he caught up with her.

“I didn’t like how you were all talking to each other, it didn’t seem very nice.”

He looked at her perplexedly. “What do you mean? It’s the truth, some wizarding families _are_ better than others. I imagine yours are the same as mine, seeing as how well we’ve gotten on.”

“The same as yours?” Hermione queried.

Draco frowned, his look of confidence fading. "Pure-blood?"

She shook her head.

“Oh,” was all he said.

As they reached the grand oak doors, Draco briefly caught Hermione’s eye. “Good luck with the sorting then.”

And with that, they were swept away into the Entrance Hall.


	3. Chapter 3

Crowded together at the front of the Great Hall, Hermione stood clustered among other similarly anxious looking peers. She listened as Professor McGonagall began reading from a long roll of parchment.

“When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,” she said. “Abbott, Hannah!”

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment’s pause –

“HUFFLEPUFF!” shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table.

“Bones, Susan!”

Hermione’s mind wandered as the process continued in a similar fashion. She gazed around the impressive hall taking in the floating candles, pearly-white ghosts, and velvety black star spattered ceiling. The peaceful moment was torn quickly away, however, as a voice pierced her brain.

“Granger, Hermione!”

Heart pounding and a swarm of butterflies in her stomach, Hermione took small steps towards the stool. Clutching at the rough sides, she lowered herself into seating position and awaited her fate.

The sorting hat was placed on her head and she heard it hum in consideration. “Well, well, what do we have here? Difficult, very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. A clever mind too. You’re incredibly loyal and, oh yes, a thirst to prove yourself; now that’s interesting. So, where shall I put you?”

The edge of the stool was beginning to bite into Hermione’s palms as she thought, “Gryffindor, please Gryffindor.”

“Gryffindor, eh?” the small voice said into her ear. “Are you sure? You could be great, you know, and Slytherin could help you on your way to greatness, no doubt about that – no? Well, if you’re sure – better be GRYFFINDOR!”

Hermione heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall and she felt her heart leap. As the hat was lifted off her head it felt as though a different weight had also been taken from her shoulders. Her parents would be so proud of her, she thought, as she shakily made her way towards the Gryffindor table.

The rest of the sorting passed in a blur and only a few names stood out to Hermione.

“Malfoy, Draco,” Professor McGonagall called.

With a slight swagger, Draco walked towards the stool and gracefully sat down as the hat was placed upon his head.

“SLYTHERIN!” the hat yelled almost instantaneously. Draco smirked at the applause and strolled towards the tables dressed in green. No one noticed him glance towards the bushy brown haired girl with emotion swirling in his eyes.

She had looked towards him too, just moments previously. There was sadness in her features but also a resolution to fight whatever prejudices she had witnessed on the boat.

“Potter, Harry” and “Weasley, Ron” were now both sat next to Hermione at the Gryffindor table and she was surprised to find she felt pleased to have them near her.

With the sorting finished, Albus Dumbledore had got to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

“Welcome!” he said. “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts!”

Hermione laughed happily with the rest of the Great Hall as the impressive, but wizened, old man gave the briefest of speeches and gave permission for them all to eat with a wave of his hand.

Hermione’s mouth fell open. The dishes in front of her were now piled with food. She had never seen so many things she liked to eat on one table.

As the Gryffindors ate their fill, the talk turned to their families.

“I’m half and half,” said a boy called Seamus Finnigan. “Me dad’s a Muggle. Mam didn’t tell him she was a witch ‘til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him.”

Hermione considered this and, reflecting on her earlier conversation with Draco, wondered out loud, "What's a pure-blood?"

“It’s a family who say they have no Muggles or Muggle-borns in their family,” replied another boy Hermione had only just met, Neville she thought.

“So, what does it mean if both your parents are Muggles?”

Neville paused and Hermione noticed a few of the Gryffindors glance around awkwardly. “Well, nothing to us!”

Hermione looked at him curiously.

“Okay so _some_ pure-blood families think those who are, erm, Muggle-born are…” he paused.

“Just tell me!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Sorry, they just think they’re inferior, I guess. Like they aren’t meant to have magic.”

"What?" Hermione gasped. "That's ridiculous."

“Yeah, we know that,” Neville nodded and others around him did the same.

She was about to say something else when Dumbledore got to his feet again. The Hall fell silent.

“Ahem, just a few more words now we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.”

Hermione wasn’t able to listen to the rest of his reminders and encouragements as her mind spun. For all her prior reading, she hadn’t realised that the wizarding world might be just as prejudiced as the one she grew up in.

Eventually she heard his speech end (“and now, bedtime. Off you trot!”) and got up to follow the Gryffindor Prefect.

Hermione caught Draco’s eye as they made their way out the Great Hall towards their respective dormitories. She gave him a small smile but, before she could turn away, she noticed the dark-haired girl from the train whisper something in his ear and laugh. Draco glanced at Hermione, suppressing his own smile.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies this is such a short chapter!

It had been a few weeks of trying to find classes within Hogwarts and Hermione was still somewhat confused. Her rational mind had considered all staircase possibilities five times over, however, the stairs of the castle were, unfortunately, not logical.

On this particular morning Hermione was walking towards her Defence Against the Dark Arts class and feeling fairly confident she knew where to go when a hand grabbed the back of her cloak, pulling her roughly into a nearby alcove.

She quickly raised her wand and shouted, “Let me go!”

There was a ruffling of robes and a voice said, “Sorry, it’s just me, um, Draco.”

Hermione paused and decided to pocket her wand. “Oh, hello...”

“Yeah, um, I wasn’t sure how else to get your attention.”

“I imagine there are other ways than accosting a girl in the corridor,” Hermione stated.

He shrugged. “I suppose, but you do know the position I’m in?”

“Do I?”

Of course, at this point, she knew his standing on certain wizarding opinions and values but she wasn’t about to let him off easily.

“It’s difficult to explain. Do you think we could meet in the library this evening?”

“Are you suggesting a clandestine arrangement, Malfoy?” she hoped the use of his surname would reinforce her annoyance at the whole conversation and, to her surprise, he gave her a confirming look.

“I… suppose. Will you be there, Granger?”

“Fine, what time?” Hermione asked.

“Does 8.00pm sound okay?

“Okay,” she stated. “I’ll see you there.”

Draco shrugged as though he was doing _her_ the favour and strolled casually towards his own destination.

Hermione huffed as she struggled to find her bearings again.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione was eating her evening meal at the Gryffindor table and feeling progressively more nervous as her meeting with Draco crept closer. Harry and Ron were sat away from her, further up the table, however their presence only served to increase the anxiety.

“It’s no wonder no one can stand her,” Ron muttered as her fingers tapped repetitively on the table.

Shocked at this admission, Hermione’s eyes widened and she felt the familiar burn of hot tears begin to form. Harry watched as she stood quickly, shoving her belongings into a satchel, and strode from the Great Hall. "I think she heard you," he mumbled.

“So?” said Ron, but he looked a bit uncomfortable. “She must’ve realised she’s got no friends.”

Hermione had, of course, realised this. It was just that she wished it weren't true.

Reaching the library, she slumped into one of the comfy library chairs and recalled finally feeling at home on the Hogwarts Express, talking about books with Draco. This new sensation had been quickly extinguished as she came to realise he didn’t particularly care for her either.

She sighed in defeat and pulled ‘Hogwarts: A History' closer towards her, trying to get lost in its words rather than ruminating on her own thoughts.

After a time, the world began to fade around her.

“Hermione?” a voice eventually questioned, breaking into her silence.

She blinked a few times and, as her eyes adjusted, murmured, “Yes…”

“Sorry, I didn’t realise you were asleep.”

“It’s fine, have you been here long?”

Draco paused. “No, only a few minutes.”

“Oh, okay,” her consciousness was beginning to reform. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“Well, I guess… I missed you.”

Hermione almost laughed. “You, the great _Draco Malfoy_ , miss a mere Muggle-born like me? What has the world come to?”

Draco’s eyes darkened and Hermione wondered whether she had gone too far. “Sorry,” she muttered.

“No, you’re right. I was wrong to judge you but, well, it’s all I’ve known.”

Hermione frowned in confusion, so Draco said, "I was taught that Muggle-borns are inferior, scum, less than those who are pure-blood.” He paused so as to evaluate her reaction. She appeared neutral and he continued, “The stories I was told… well, I guess I was a bit scared too. Some books say you steal our magic.”

Hermione did laugh this time. “Sorry, what?”

“I know, it’s hard to believe but… people like you, hate is all I’ve known.” Draco took a breath, “I really enjoyed talking to you on the train and it felt like I was finally able to be me…”

She didn’t interrupt but simply gazed at him through her bright, blue eyes.

“That made me angry. How could I enjoy spending time with someone inferior to me? It made me start questioning everything. I’m still questioning, I’m confused. You’re intelligent, you make me laugh, you…” he cut off.

“I’m what?”

“Nothing,” he said, blushing. “Nothing. I just, didn’t expect this to happen.”

Hermione shrugged. “Right, well, what do you want from me?”

“I want to be friends,” Draco said. “At least, I’d like the chance to be your friend.”

“Even though I’m inferior?”

He shook his head. “ _You_ could never be inferior.”

She considered him, this strange pale faced boy, asking her to be his friend despite admitting he was brought up to hate her. Hermione wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about Draco now but, as she had already been reminded once that evening, she supposed she could do with a friend.

"How about we walk to Potions together tomorrow, then?" Hermione asked.

Draco at least had the sense to look somewhat embarrassed as he said, “Um, why don’t we meet in the evenings, so no one else is around.”

That made sense. He didn’t want to be seen around her. “Right."

The tears were falling again before she could control them. Hermione grabbed her books and walked quickly from the library, heading to the first place she could find to be alone.


	6. Chapter 6

Sat on the freezing cold toilet seat lid, Hermione sobbed quietly into her hands. Having rushed out of the library she had found the girls toilets empty and locked herself into a corner cubicle.

What made this moment even more painful was how reminiscent it was of times she hoped were far behind her. She had spent more hours than she cared to admit crying in the toilets of her primary school because she was different, because people didn’t like her.

Hermione lifted her head and gazed at the grey door in front of her. She had been so certain that things would change when she arrived at Hogwarts. Perhaps she just wasn’t a likeable person?

“No,” Hermione thought to herself. “Whatever his flaws, Draco at least saw something in me. He sought me out and tried to make amends. Maybe I ought to – ”

Her train of thought came to an abrupt halt as a deafening crash echoed through the bathroom. She immediately froze; her whole body was stiff and her nails dug into the palms of her hands.

A low grunt and the sound of heavy footfalls brought Hermione back into the room. Whatever was making those awful noises sounded as though it was coming towards her hiding place.

Heart hammering painfully against her chest, Hermione bent down and peered under the cubicle door. The sight she witnessed made her blood run cold. There, standing by the sinks, was a twelve-foot, granite grey _troll._

Hermione involuntarily stumbled backwards and sucked in a gasp of breath. It was the wrong thing to do. A foul stench leaked into her airways, causing her to retch.

Her choking was loud enough to encourage the troll to move in her direction at a quicker pace, dragging its heavy wooden club along the floor as it went.

Mind racing, Hermione prayed desperately for a plan. She glanced up to the ceiling and decided her best course of action would be to try and jump between cubicles. Trolls were renowned for being incredibly dim-witted and she hoped the element of surprise would be on her side.

As she steadied herself enough to stand on the toilet seat lid, she heard a key click softly in the door that was to be her exit. Hermione’s bravery seeped away and she screamed.

The troll advanced.

Feeling faint, Hermione thought she was hallucinating as two figures suddenly burst through the just locked door. They were jumping up and down, waving their arms, and shouting which meant the troll lost interest in her and lumbered away towards the new arrivals.

Hermione quickly left the cubicle and stared past the monster towards her rescuers: Harry and Ron.

“Confuse it!” Harry yelled desperately, seizing a tap and hurling it towards the wall.

The troll blinked stupidly before making for Harry, lifting its club menacingly.

“Harry!” shrieked Hermione.

“Oy, pea-brain!” Ron shouted as he threw a metal pipe.

Although the troll didn’t seem to notice any pain to its shoulder, it heard the yell and paused again, turning its ugly snout towards Ron instead.

Hermione thought she heard someone in the distance telling her to run but her legs trembled, and she sunk to the floor in fright. She watched dazedly as the fight continued, wishing she could help the two boys rather than curling up against the wall.

* * *

The next thing Hermione was aware of were two small but strong hands gripping her shoulders and pulling her to her feet, just as the bathroom door flew open yet again.

Three adults rushed in and took stock of the scene before them. Snape strode over to the lifeless troll whilst Professor Quirrell whimpered and turned to stare at the students.

“Some _please_ explain this,” Professor McGonagall said with barely suppressed anger.

Harry and Ron both looked at the floor.

Hermione gulped and whispered, “Please, Professor McGonagall – it’s my fault, they were looking for me.”

When questioned further, Hermione continued to lie and said she had gone looking for the troll because she thought she could deal with it by herself.

Pausing to look at the boys, who were gazing at her open-mouthed ( _not very subtle_ , she thought), Hermione continued, “If they hadn’t found me, I’d be dead now.”

An uncomfortable stillness filled the bathroom as her words sunk in.

Finally, Professor McGonagall sighed. “Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?”

Hermione’s cheeks were tinged pink as she looked to the side and avoided making eye contact.

In the end, Gryffindor lost only five house points which, she supposed, could have been worse.

The trio walked back to their dormitory in stunned silence. It was only when they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady that they all muttered to each other, “Thanks”, and hurried through the hole.

From that moment on, Hermione knew she had made two new friends. There were some things you couldn't share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll was one of them.


	7. Chapter 7

As the days and weeks crept forward, Hermione spent a good majority of time with Harry and Ron. They had recently told her about the midnight duel Draco had challenged them to which lead to their accidental discovery of a three headed dog. So soon after their 'adventure' with the troll, Hermione was grateful she had not been involved in that particular escapade. However, despite chastising the boys for leaving the dormitory out of hours, she was secretly pleased they were now including her in their plans.

On this particular evening, Harry and Ron had decided to go and speak to Hagrid about the dog whilst Hermione feigned interest at going to research Cerberus’ in the library. In reality, she hoped to find Draco there.

Walking softly through the aisles, Hermione glanced towards each table in turn. Her heart dropped as she could see no platinum blonde head bent over a desk. Resignedly, she headed towards her favourite place in the library. A quiet nook at the end of a long corridor in which she had never seen anyone else. To her surprise, tonight, there was an intruder.

Hermione marched towards the student; stopping only when she realised who it was. Draco was sat in one of the chairs with his legs crossed at the ankles. As she moved closer she noticed he was reading one of her favourite books.

She paused and said quietly, “Hi…”

Draco glanced up at her and then back down at his book. “Oh, you’re talking to me again now, are you?”

Hermione ached to tell him that it was really _his_ fault she had been upset and was therefore almost killed at the hands of a troll, but she decided now probably wasn’t the right time.

“I’m sorry for storming off,” she offered as she sat down next to him. “I was already upset so didn’t feel like dealing with your comment.”

“It’s not just because of me, you know.”

“What?”

Draco sighed. “Why I suggested we don’t meet around other people. I mean, yes, obviously it would be difficult for me, given my… circumstances. But also, it wouldn’t look good for you either. No one likes Slytherins and it would make people wary around you,” he took a breath and continued. “You’re _friendly_ with Potter now I see and, I guess there’s a lot you don’t know about my family, but there’s a reason father wanted me to try and make friends with him.”

Hermione’s mind whirled as she tried to take in this new information. “Would you, explain it to me?” she asked.

He looked at her again, wondering what it was about this girl that made him want to trust her. He knew he shouldn’t trust anyone, let alone a Mud-, he corrected himself, a Muggle-born. “Yes,” he eventually agreed. “But not tonight.”

She hoped her disappointment didn’t show too clearly on her face as she nodded. “Okay, well, I’ll leave you to it then.”

As she lifted herself out of the chair, Draco lent over and caught her wrist gently with his fingers. “I’m just tired,” he said. “But I do still have some homework left to do, if you wanted to finish yours up with me?”

Hermione grinned as she sank back down again and started pulling books and parchment from her bag. Draco hid his own smile as he went back to reading.

They worked quietly together for the next hour. Only pausing to ask each other a question, or point out something interesting they had just read. Eventually, through yawns, they both admitted it was time to head back to their respective dormitories.

“Tomorrow?” Hermione asked, tentatively.

“Tomorrow,” Draco confirmed.


	8. Chapter 8

Between spending time with Harry and Ron, seeing Draco, researching the Philosopher’s Stone, and staying ahead with homework, Hermione was exhausted. For the first time in her life she was looking forward to having some time off over the Christmas period.

There was only one day left of lessons and, whilst elsewhere in the castle warm fires were raging, down in Professor Snape’s dungeon Hermione’s breath rose in a mist before her. She shivered and moved closer to her cauldron in an attempt to garner some heat.

Carefully chopping up her ingredients into neat cubes, she overheard Draco talking in a loud voice behind her. Hermione rolled her eyes, wondering what was coming.

“I do feel _so_ sorry,” he drawled, “for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they’re not wanted at home.”

He was looking over at Harry as he spoke. Crabbe and Goyle chuckled. Harry, who was engrossed in trying not to slice his fingers open, ignored them. Hermione sighed with relief. She glanced over her shoulder and gave Draco the best glare she could muster. Considering his smirk, she imagined it wasn’t particularly threatening.

* * *

In the library later that evening, Hermione and Draco sat working together in silence. It was to be the last time they saw each other before heading home for the holidays and Draco knew they ought to discuss whatever had made her so prickly towards him.

He gave a dramatic sigh. “What have I done now?”

Hermione looked over at him reproachfully. “You mean you don’t know?”

He shrugged endearingly. The graceful way in which Draco always seemed to move only served to irritate her further.

She smirked and said in a high-pitched version of his own voice, “I doooo feel _so_ sorry for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas.”

He blinked and let out a sudden bark of laughter. Hermione giggled in surprise and suddenly realised she couldn’t stop. The two attempted to cover their mouths and stifle the noise, which only made them laugh harder until tears began to leak from their eyes.

“You shouldn’t taunt him about that, you know,” Hermione said when she could breathe again. “Imagine if that was you and Harry’d said those things.”

Draco glanced at her. “Yeah it was a low blow, I guess. I just really hate him, and Weasley too. They’re always saying underhand things _and_ getting away with it, unless Professor Snape’s there to step in.”

She hadn’t thought about it like that and, for once, didn’t argue with him. “Well, you’re all prats sometimes.”

Smiling, Draco replied, “And you’re a know-it-all. Great pair we make.”

“The Prat and The Know-It-All,” Hermione choked out. “The greatest of all the Marvel superheroes!”

“Pardon?”

Waving her hand she said, “Oh nothing, a Muggle reference.”

Draco tilted his head and considered her. “Maybe you could tell me more about it?”

“You want to know?” she asked. “We never did talk about your family, by the way.”

“No, we didn’t. It’s not the most enlightening tale.”

“Please?”

Draco hesitated before giving a small nod. He began by telling Hermione about the First Wizarding War, which she had read about, and his families’ involvement. He explained that his father and aunt were both trusted members of Lord Voldemort’s inner circle.

“Once it was all over, father testified to being under the Imperius Curse and – ” Draco paused, he had never voiced these fears to anyone before. “I’ve never been sure whether to believe him.”

Hermione’s eyes were wide as she listened attentively. “You think he really did all those things he was accused of?”

“I hope not, but, well, I can imagine it.”

“What about your mother?”

Draco’s demeanour softened slightly as he thought carefully about his answer. “She - she would do _anything_ for the two people she loves most; and that includes my father.”

“They’d want me dead, wouldn’t they? You used to think I deserved that too,” Hermione mused.

“You’re different, you’re… _you_. _”_

She smiled at him sadly, bumping her shoulder against his. “I’m so pleased you’ve been questioning the way you think and what you’ve been taught, Draco; but it’s not just about _me._ Muggle-borns in general deserve to be treated the same as everyone else.”

He supposed he knew that, but admitted it was difficult to challenge the beliefs he'd been fed since birth. Draco had always strived to be the perfect son and emulate his father in every way. When he met Hermione, it was as though the rug had been pulled out from under his feet, and he wasn’t sure where that left him.

Lost in his thoughts, Draco hadn’t noticed Hermione reach into her satchel and pull out a well-read book. She held it out to him, the title read: 'Why We Can’t Wait' by Martin Luther King.

“Would you read this for me, over Christmas?” she asked. “I’d like to hear your thoughts.”

Draco nodded. “Can we talk about something else now, please?”

Shifting slightly in her seat, Hermione quickly began lamenting over the assigned Defence Against the Dark Arts essay which, yet again, encouraged them to refer to the properties of garlic. It wasn’t _quite_ what Draco had in mind, however he found he could listen to her voice and gaze peacefully into the distance, letting his eyes rest on the flickering orange glow of the lights.

Maintaining just enough self-awareness to realise Draco was almost asleep, Hermione smiled softly and gave him a gentle nudge. “Come on, let's head out.”

He grumbled something but packed up his belongings and they made their way through the empty library together. At the doors the two looked at each other slightly awkwardly. Bouncing anxiously on the balls of her feet, Hermione stepped quickly towards Draco and gave him a brief hug.

Her cheeks burned red as she squeaked, “Bye then! Um… Merry Christmas!”

Draco touched his cheek with the palm of his hand, precisely where her hair had brushed just moments previously. She smelled like vanilla.

“Bye,” he whispered to her rapidly retreating form.


	9. Chapter 9

By the time Hermione arrived back at Hogwarts she was buzzing with excitement to see her friends and recommence lessons. Despite having a wonderful Christmas with her parents, she had missed everything to do with the wizarding world, and even the regular owls she received did little to soothe the ache she felt.

Hermione found Harry and Ron lounging on the comfortable common room sofa as she hurriedly made her way inside the portrait hole. They both grinned up at her as she flopped down between them. In an attempt to maintain some semblance of manners she briefly enquired about their holidays, before asking what she really wanted to know. “So, did you find out who Nicolas Flamel was?”

The boys rolled their eyes in mock exasperation at her eagerness for knowledge, but Harry shook his head and said no. Instead, he told her about the Mirror of Erised (“why would they keep something like that in a _school_?”) and his newly gifted invisibility cloak (“can I see? I’d love to do some research on it!”).

They continued to talk for the next hour before Hermione insisted they all go to bed. “It _is_ the first day of term tomorrow after all. We really need to be ready to learn as well as putting more research hours in, I think.”

As she stood, Hermione accidentally caught one of the Chocolate Frog cards Harry and Ron had been comparing on the table and it fell to the floor. Harry bent to pick it up and gasped.

“I’ve found him!” he whispered, gazing at picture of Professor Dumbledore in his hand.

Pausing from the staircase, Hermione asked, “Found what?”

“Flamel!” Ron exclaimed as he leaned over Harry’s shoulder. “You told us you’d seen his name somewhere, mate!”

“Listen to this,” Harry said. “Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon’s blood _and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel!”_

“Stay there!” Hermione yelped and sprinted up to her dormitory.

Harry and Ron barely had time to exchange surprised looks before she was racing back, an enormous old book in her arms.

“I never thought to look in here!” she muttered, flicking fervently through the pages.

“A little light reading?” Ron chuckled sarcastically.

Hermione waved her hand impatiently in front of his face as she at last found what she was looking for. “Nicolas Flamel,” she breathed, “is the only _known maker of the Philosopher’s Stone!”_

She was frustrated at the lack of response her dramatic statement had made on the boys but she pushed the book into their laps for them to read.

“See?” said Hermione, when Harry and Ron had finished. “The dog must be guarding Flamel’s Philosopher’s Stone! I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, because they’re friends and he knew someone was after it.”

“A stone that makes gold and stops you ever dying,” said Harry. “No wonder Snape’s after it! _Anyone_ would want it.”

The trio continued to engage in excited conversation until they were yawning more than talking and finally went to bed.

* * *

The weeks passed quickly by in a haze of research and homework and, walking towards Charms with Harry, Ron, and Neville one blustery day, Hermione was disappointed that she had yet to spend much time with Draco. 

So, when she saw him leaning elegantly against the wall by their classroom, she wasn’t able to conceal her sudden grin. There was no time to consider whether anyone had noticed the faux pas, however, as Crabbe and Goyle immediately took a step towards them, the latter clicking his knuckles.

Draco sighed internally; he was frustrated that his first proper encounter with Hermione after their separation was going to be this way. On the other hand, he was ready to assert his dominance over her Gryffindor idiots. Malfoys did not share, and Draco particularly hated having to share _his_ friend with _them_.

Smirking Draco pulled himself from the wall and walked towards the four. “Surprised to hear you’re going ahead with the Quidditch match tomorrow, Potter. Wonder how long you’re going to stay on the broom this time?”

Harry scowled and strode towards him, closely followed by Ron. Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose and prayed for strength.

Draco continued, “You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team? It’s people they feel sorry for. See, there’s you Potter, who’s got no parents, then there’s the Weasleys, who’ve got no money,” he looked over at Neville, “you should be on the team Longbottom, you’ve got no brains.”

“Shut it, Malfoy,” Ron snarled as he and Harry went to grab their wands.

Neville attempted to do the same and, somehow, managed to become entangled in his robes. They twisted around him as he struggled to free himself and he fell, almost comically, to the floor. Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle howled with laughter before moving back to the wall as they heard Professor Flitwick hurrying around the corner.

“Oh, Granger,” Draco called over his shoulder as he entered the classroom. “I’m shocked you’re not in the _library_. Will you be sleeping with the books _tonight?_ I imagine they've _missed you_ and that bushy head of yours.”

He hoped she got the message.


	10. Chapter 10

“BUSHY HEAD?” she shouted, storming over to Draco that evening.

He looked up at her and smiled innocently. He had initially entertained concerns that the comment was too much however, upon seeing her like this, he realised how much fun it was to wind her up.

“Good evening, Granger,” he said. “How lovely to see you received my message.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and took her usual seat next to him. “My hair isn’t bushy, it’s textured.”

Draco snorted primly. “It looks like you have housed a Kneazle in there for _at least_ the past seven years. It’s a mess. I’m shocked you can hold your head up straight.”

He was lying, of course. Draco found her hair surprisingly endearing, not that he would ever admit it. He liked that Hermione didn’t succumb to the pressure other girls did to change their appearance. The smell of Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion often wafted around the Slytherin dungeon and Draco shivered at the thought. He much preferred vanilla.

As she yanked books and parchment from her satchel, Hermione muttered, “At least my face isn’t sharp enough to cut steel.”

Draco stroked his chin wryly. “They’re aristocratic features, very highly regarded.”

Hermione leant over him to grab one of his quills and pretended to cut her arm across his nose. She squealed realistically but couldn’t maintain the pretence and burst into laughter whilst Draco pouted next to her.

Settling down, the two updated each other with their news. Hermione had already told Draco about Hagrid and Fluffy, but not Nicholas Flamel.

“I really don’t think that Snape would be looking for the Philosopher’s Stone,” Draco mused. “Who did you say gave Hagrid the egg again?”

“He wasn’t sure, someone he was playing cards with in the Leaky Cauldron.”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit odd,” he responded, “that, from what you’ve said, something Hagrid wants more than anything else is a dragon, and a stranger just turns up who happens to have an egg in this pocket?”

Hermione gasped and put her hand over her mouth. “Why didn’t I see it before? How many people are going to wander around with dragon eggs when it’s against wizard law?”

“The question is then, what did this card player get from Hagrid in return?”

“Hagrid isn’t very good at keeping secrets…”

“And does he like to brag about his pet monsters?”

Scowling she said, “He’s very passionate, yes, but – ”, Hermione broke off, eyes wide. “Do you think he told the stranger something about Fluffy?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Oh, what a mess. At least Dumbledore is around, he wouldn’t let the stone be stolen from right under his nose.”

“Um, Hermione.” Draco paused. “He’s been called to the Ministry of Magic. I overhead Professor McGonagall earlier today.”

She blanched.

Frantically packing her belongings away, Hermione apologised to Draco explaining that she had to go and find Harry and Ron immediately. Running from him towards the library exit, Draco wasn’t sure why he felt his stomach drop as he lost sight of her.

* * *

Hermione burst through the Fat Lady’s portrait, much to the latter's chagrin (“ _w_ _atch_ where you are going young lady!”), and was relieved to find Harry and Ron in their usual positions by the fire. Breathlessly she told them everything she now believed about the stone, obviously leaving out any mention of Draco.

“It’s tonight,” said Harry at once. “Snape’s going through the trapdoor tonight. He’s found out everything he needs and now he’s got Dumbledore out of the way. He sent that note, I bet the Ministry will get a real shock when Dumbledore turns up.”

Hermione wanted to tell Harry that she (and Draco) didn’t believe Snape was the one looking to steal the stone but held her tongue. They eventually agreed that the only course of action was to use the Invisibility Cloak and attempt to retrieve the stone before the thief. Hermione was deeply unhappy with this plan however, equally, she was not going to let two of her best friends enter such a dangerous situation without her.

“We’ll go tonight then," she said determinedly. "When everyone is in bed."


	11. Chapter 11

It took a few anxiety-filled hours before everyone had vacated the common room but, eventually, the last person headed up to their dormitory. As Harry, Ron, and Hermione began preparing to leave, they heard a quiet voice call out from the corner of the room.

“What are you doing?”

Neville appeared from behind an armchair, clutching Trevor the toad. They attempted to persuade him that nothing untoward was about to happen, but he wasn’t having any of it. Regretfully, Hermione cast a Full-Body Bind Curse and Neville fell to the floor. She felt awful, but there was nothing else to be done.

A few close calls later, the trio made it to the third-floor corridor. The door was already ajar.

“Well, there you are,” said Harry quietly. “Snape’s already got past Fluffy.”

Hermione was pleased that she had made the decision to come with Harry and Ron; without her she really wasn’t certain how far they would have gotten. After taking it in turns to play the flute they landed in Devil’s Snare, which Hermione correctly identified and disposed of. She felt that Ron made far too much of a big deal about her _brief_ panic regarding the lack of wood. He and Harry were the ones panicking so much that they almost caused the plant to grip them to death!

Following these two tasks, the boys were able to demonstrate their own skills and Hermione reluctantly admitted they did a far better job than she would have. The life-sized chess game had, however, left Ron too injured to consider moving any further, so Hermione and Harry continued alone. Despite the mortal peril they faced, Hermione was surprised to find she actually enjoyed the Potion task. What she didn’t enjoy was leaving Harry to face whatever came next, by himself.

“But Harry, what if You-Know-Who’s with him?”

“Well, I was lucky once, wasn’t I?” said Harry, pointing to his scar. “I might get lucky again.”

Hermione’s lip trembled and she flung herself towards Harry, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.

“Look after yourself,” she said, letting go and walking back the way she came.

* * *

It was on autopilot that Hermione roused Ron and the two made their way back to the third-floor corridor. He was rapidly fading by the time she managed to drag him out onto a staircase, and she was struggling to keep him upright.

Frantically Hermione wondered what she could do and whether ‘ _Wingardium Leviosa_ ’ might be enough to carry him to the hospital wing, when she saw Draco racing towards her. Faint with relief, Hermione’s knees gave way and she sank to the ground with an unconscious Ron draped over her shoulders.

Draco knelt quickly in front of her and whispered, “What in Merlin’s name has happened to you?”

“There’s no time to explain, we have to get an owl to Dumbledore _right now_.”

“I’m not just leaving you here, Hermione!”

“You have – ” she started.

“There will be no need for that, Miss Granger,” a voice snapped from the shadows.

Hermione’s eyes widened and Draco spun around, standing in front of her protectively.

“Professor Snape.”

“Obviously,” he said, drawing out each syllable. “As _touching_ as this moment is I am sure, it would not do for the entire student population to witness it. Mr Malfoy go straight to the dungeons; I will escort Miss Granger and Mr Weasley to the hospital wing.”

“But – ” Hermione tried again.

“Do not test me tonight, Miss Granger. Professor Dumbledore is aware of the situation. Mr Malfoy, now.”

Draco hesitated, the last thing he wanted to do was leave Hermione. Turning to look at her, she gave him a small nod. Draco gripped her hand briefly and tore himself away.

True to his word, Snape guided the two Gryffindors to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey was already waiting for them and led Hermione to a cot encircled by blue curtains.

“Is Harry okay?” she asked.

Madam Pomfrey sighed. “Yes he is, but how you children get into such trouble I’ll never know.”

Hermione felt something release inside her. They were all okay. She sunk into her pillows and readily accepted the Dreamless Sleep potion offered to her.

* * *

It was a week later, on the last day of term, that Hermione was finally able to catch Draco alone and pull him into an empty classroom.

“Oh, Draco,” she said, suddenly tearful.

He tried to be angry with her, he really did. He knew what to do with that feeling. Draco Malfoy could hate, and he could take comfort in lashing out. Anger made him feel powerful and in control, the complete opposite to what he had been feeling these past seven days. He wanted to hurt her. He never wanted to see her hurt again.

Draco didn’t say anything.

“Please talk to me,” she pleaded.

It almost broke him. “You… scared me.”

Hermione moved towards him. “I’m so sorry you found us like that. But thank you. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”

Draco couldn’t handle it. He pushed his emotions away. “You’d have been fine,” he said curtly. “Snape was almost there anyway.”

A glimpse of hurt flashed through Hermione’s wide eyes but it was gone within seconds. She nodded, taking a step back.

“I want to know everything,” Draco told her.

They sat for a long time as Hermione took him through all that had occurred after she ran from him in the library. His heart pounded and the knot of anxiety that had taken residence in his stomach grew steadily. Could You-Know-Who really be back? _Oh gods_.

“And then, well, you know the rest,” she finished. “Are you mad at me?”

“No,” he ground out. “Potter and Weasley though are a different story. _What_ were they thinking, the idiots, putting you in that position?”

Hermione was surprised at his reaction. “It was my choice, Draco.”

“Then they shouldn’t have let you go. How could they willingly put you in danger! _Merlin_ , this had better not happen again.”

“LET, _let_ me go?” she shrilled.

Draco put his hands up in surrender. “It’s just a lot to take in, okay?”

“I know, I’m sorry. Let’s not fight, I won’t see you for weeks now.”

They stuck to easy topics from then, such as exam grades and summer plans. Gryffindor’s unexpected defeat of Slytherin for the House Cup began to get heated before Draco made her laugh until she couldn’t speak any more.

Eventually it was time to separate. Hermione hugged him before leaving and it felt more comfortable than her previous attempt last Christmas. He even managed to reciprocate with one of his own arms around her back.

The scent of vanilla lingered on his robes as she skipped from the room. It was going to be a long summer.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've made it to second year - thank you to everyone for reading!  
> Please do leave reviews, I would love to hear what you all think so far.

Hermione sat at the long Gryffindor table glancing anxiously around the room. Her mind was racing so quickly that she had missed the entirety of the sorting, as well as Dumbledore’s speech. Now that the magnificent start of term feast was laid out before her, she found that her stomach was churning too much to eat anything.

It had felt like an incredibly long summer and, by August, Hermione was counting down the days before she arrived back at Hogwarts. The weeks had dragged, leaving her feeling particularly lonely. Draco had asked Hermione not to write during the holidays because of his parents and whilst Harry and Ron tried, they were never very forthcoming in their letters.

So, when she had searched the Hogwarts Express for her two fellow Gryffindors and not found them anywhere, her excitement turned swiftly to panic. And now, for them to not even be in the Great Hall, Hermione didn’t know what to think. She glanced towards Draco who was already watching her.

Motioning with his eyes, he looked from Hermione to the doors and back again questioningly. She nodded, packed up her satchel, and left the Hall. Moments later, Draco joined her in a nearby alcove.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Draco had never seen Hermione look so preoccupied. She had been sat upright and stiff at the table, eyes darting around the room as though she expected to be attacked at any moment. He was concerned something awful must have happened to her on the train and couldn’t resist calling her out to see him. He’d think of an excuse for his housemates later.

“Hermione?”

“Oh, sorry Draco,” she said absently. “I’ve just been wondering where Harry and Ron are.”

His jaw clenched and a flare of jealously burned through him. Biting the inside of his check he replied, “You’ve not heard the rumours?”

She looked sharply towards him. “What rumours?”

“That Dumb and Dumber flew a car here, crashed it, and have now been expelled."

Choosing not to query his Muggle reference, Hermione snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous, they wouldn’t do that.”

Draco wished it _were_ true but he just shrugged. “I’m sure they’re fine, Granger.”

Noting the use of her surname, Hermione attempted to turn the conversation in a different direction, but they were both too caught up in their own thoughts for it to be entirely comfortable. Eventually, they agreed to meet in the library as soon as possible. 

The feast had long ended, and Hermione traipsed up the staircases by herself. As she rounded the corner, a splash of red caught her attention and she dashed towards it. Ron and Harry stood in front of the Fat Lady.

“ _There_ you are! Where have you _been_? The most ridiculous rumours – someone said you’d been expelled for crashing a flying _car_.”

“Well, we haven’t been expelled,” Harry assured her.

“You’re not telling me you _did_ fly here?” said Hermione, sounding almost as severe as Professor McGonagall.

“Skip the lecture,” said Ron impatiently, “and tell us the new password.”

“It’s ‘wattlebird’,” she huffed, “but that’s not the point – ”

Her words were cut short, however, as the portrait swung open and there was a sudden storm of clapping. It looked as though the whole of Gryffindor house was still awake, packed into the circular common room, standing on the lop-sided tables and squashy armchairs, waiting for them to arrive. Hermione rolled her eyes as the boys were pulled through and she was left to scramble in after them.

It was incredibly frustrating to witness the hero treatment Harry and Ron received after she had spent so many hours deeply anxious and worried for their safety. Deciding she would rather be alone in her dormitory, Hermione slunk to the wall and made her way upstairs.

* * *

The next day didn’t start particularly well for Harry and Ron so Hermione decided to forgive them more readily than she would have usually. It wasn’t even eight in the morning when Ron received an awful Howler from his mother. She supposed they had been punished enough. As it happened, Hermione turned out to be incorrect: apparently the day was in a merciless mood.

Sitting outside during their lunch break, Hermione was lost in her book (‘ _Voyages with Vampires_ ’) when she noticed a sweet looking first year shuffle over to them.

“All right, Harry? I’m – I’m Colin Creevey,” he said breathlessly, taking a tentative step forward. “I’m in Gryffindor, too. D’you think, I mean, would it be alright if – can I have a picture?” he said, raising his camera hopefully.

“A picture?” Harry repeated blankly.

Hermione chuckled quietly to herself, her messy haired friend had never liked to be the centre of attention. She wondered how he was going to deal with this situation and whether she could stir the pot by _kindly_ suggesting Colin attend Harry’s weekly fan club meeting.

There was no time to do anything however because when Hermione looked up again, there was Draco, eyes twinkling with mischief, standing behind Colin. “ _Signed photos?_ You’re giving out _signed photos_ , Potter?”

Loud and scathing, Draco’s voice echoed around the courtyard. Initially he had hoped to simply garner Hermione’s attention, but now he was rather enjoying himself. “Everyone queue up!” he shouted out to the crowd. “Harry Potter’s giving out signed photos!”

“No, I’m not,” said Harry angrily, his fists clenching. “Shut up, Malfoy.”

Hermione cringed inwardly when Colin attempted to stand up for Harry by saying, “You’re just jealous.”

Draco caught Hermione’s eye a number of times whilst he continued verbally sparring with Harry, joined by Ron, and she couldn’t help but suppress a few smiles. She would have a word with him about his tendency to become a bit _too_ personal at times but at least he was more imaginative than Ron (“eat slugs, Malfoy”, _really?_ ).

When Gilderoy Lockhart strolled over to the group, Hermione’s heart leapt and she could no longer concentrate on the exchange. She quickly pushed heart doodled notes into her bag as Draco caught sight of them, raising his eyebrows. Hermione blushed and fled to the classroom in which she would face the Professor again.


	13. Chapter 13

The next morning, Hermione was in a foul mood. She had initially become frustrated during Defence Against the Dark Arts the previous day when no one seemed to be giving Professor Lockhart a fair chance ( _he had just wanted to give us some hands-on experience!_ ), then Draco had all but ignored her in the library that evening without telling her why, and now Ron was insisting she accompany him to watch Harry’s Quidditch practice.

The sun had barely risen yet here she was, freezing to death in the stands, and Harry hadn’t even begun playing! Eventually, even Ron was shifting frustratedly in his seat.

“Do you think we missed them?” he asked Hermione.

She was about to respond when they noticed the team leaving their changing rooms, still in gear.

“Aren’t you finished yet?” Ron called incredulously.

“Haven’t even started,” said Harry. “Wood’s been teaching us new moves.”

Hermione sighed irritably and muttered to Ron as the Gryffindors mounted their brooms, “At least there’s something to watch now.”

Ron nodded; his eyes already glued to the game.

It wasn’t long before Hermione caught a glimpse of green out the corner of her eye. She leaned over the stands to see the Slytherin team walking onto the pitch. As the red clad players began to dismount their brooms, Hermione nudged Ron and indicated they ought to head down to see what was going on.

“You’ve got a new Seeker?” Hermione overhead Wood say distractedly. “Who?”

From behind the six large figures she saw a small white-haired boy she was very well acquainted with. It was Draco Malfoy.

“Aren’t you Lucius Malfoy’s son?” said Fred, looking at Draco with dislike.

“Funny you should mention Draco’s father,” said Flint, the team captain. “Let me show you the generous gift he’s made to the Slytherin team.”

All seven of them held out their broomsticks. Hermione had no idea what a ‘Nimbus’ was or whether ‘Two Thousand and One’ was a good model, but she could immediately sense the jealously and indignation radiating from her House. Ron was even gaping, open-mouthed, at the sight before him.

“Good, aren’t they?” said Draco smoothly. “But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives, I expect a museum would bid for them.”

The Slytherins howled with laughter and something in Hermione snapped.

There were numerous reasons why this might have happened; the small things that build up over time often have a wry way of escaping at the worst moments. But she knew that, ultimately, this was no excuse for what she said next. “At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to _buy_ their way in. _They_ got in on pure talent.”

She immediately regretted her words. Draco’s smug look flickered and she noticed pain flash through his eyes. Hermione tried to convey her remorse with her own expression, but it wasn’t enough.

Draco’s face became suddenly blank and he looked at her coldly. “No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood,” he spat.

Hermione couldn’t move, she felt frozen to the spot. Shock was written over both her and Draco’s faces. Whilst they stood staring at one another, there was an instant uproar around them.

Flint had to dive in front of Draco to stop Fred and George jumping on him, Alicia shrieked, “ _How dare you!_ ” and Ron plunged his hand into his robes, pulled out his wand, yelling, “You’ll pay for that one, Malfoy!” and pointed it furiously under Flint’s arm at Draco’s face.

Hermione wasn’t sure what happened next, but she suddenly realised that Ron was being violently sick. Grabbing Harry, she pulled him away from the brawl and, together, they heaved their friend over to Hagrid’s house. Hermione did not look back.

* * *

A few days later Hermione, still refusing to give one seconds thought to _Draco Malfoy_ , was stamping her feet as they left Nearly Headless Nick’s Deathday Party, hoping to get some feeling back into her frozen toes, when Harry suddenly stumbled to a halt. He was clutching at the stone wall, looking around, and squinting up and down the dimly lit passageway.

“Harry, what are you – ?”

“It’s that voice again, shut up a minute.”

Hermione exchanged a worried look with Ron as Harry said again, “Listen!”

Abruptly, Harry took off running up the stairs and into the Entrance Hall. There he stood stock-still for a moment before yelling, “It’s going to kill someone!”

She was thoroughly confused and also highly concerned at this point, but could see no alternative to chasing Harry through the corridors and up numerous flights of stairs. Ron had a similar idea and they followed him, panting as they went, not stopping until they turned a corner into a deserted passage.

“Harry, _what_ was that all about?” said Ron, wiping sweat off his face. “I couldn’t hear anything…”

But Hermione gave a sudden gasp, pointing down the corridor, “ _Look!”_

Something was shining on the wall ahead. They approached slowly, squinting through the darkness. Foot-high words had been daubed on the wall between two windows, shimmering in the light cast by flaming torches.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.

ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

“What’s that thing – hanging underneath?” said Ron, a slight quiver in his voice.

As they edged nearer, Harry almost slipped over: there was a large puddle of water on the floor. Hermione grabbed him, and they inched towards the message, eyes fixed on the dark shadow beneath it. Mrs Norris, the caretaker’s cat, was hanging by her tail from the torch bracket. She was stiff as a board and staring. Hermione gasped and took a step backwards.

It wasn’t long before a crowd was headed in their direction, crashing into the passage from both ends; presumably having just finished their Halloween feast. A deafening silence fell as students began to notice the grisly sight.

Finally, although in reality it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, Dumbledore arrived on the scene, followed by a number of other teachers. After a brief discussion, the three Gryffindors were swept into Lockhart’s office to explain themselves.

* * *

Professor Dumbledore could say some peculiar things at times, but Hermione was pleased that the trio’s innocence was never called into question when discussing the unfortunate event with Mrs Norris. However, since then she had struggled to research anything useful about the Chamber of Secrets. 

Finally feeling slightly less frustrated, Hermione strode from her History of Magic class one afternoon pleased that she had gathered _some_ information from Professor Binns, when she was dragged into an empty classroom by the back of her robes.

“For Godrick’s sake, let me go!” she cried.

“It’s just me,” a familiar voice said.

“What do you want, Malfoy?”

“I wanted to make sure that you were okay.”

“You wanted to make sure I was okay,” she paused. “After _which_ incident, exactly?”

Draco didn’t respond for a moment. “The message on the wall, the Chamber of Secrets, and everything.”

“Like you care,” Hermione responded vehemently. “The last I heard, I was only a ‘filthy little Mudblood’ to you.”

The sound of _that_ word caused Draco to shudder. It used to be a normal part of his vocabulary and now it made him feel sick. To think he had even _considered_ let alone _used_ the slur filled him with shame. Unfortunately, in this moment, his shame was expressed as anger.

“Oh right,” Draco retorted. “Like _you_ were such an angel, the things you said to me.”

She snorted. “I know you saw how much I regretted that as soon as it left my mouth and yet you saw fit to throw ‘Mudblood’ in my face, as if it were a joke to you. I really hoped you had changed, Draco.”

“I had, I have! How can you say that you regretted what you said immediately and yet I’m not allowed the same courtesy?”

Hermione briefly considered his words; did he have a point? Ultimately, she was still too angry to accept anything other than her own point of view. “Because I would never use such a derogatory word against someone who was supposed to be my best friend. Even if they had said something hurtful to me beforehand. Honestly, Malfoy, at this point I wouldn’t be surprised if _you_ were the Heir of Slytherin hoping to get rid of me and all the other ‘ _Mudbloods_ ’.”

Draco gaped at her. “How _dare_ you say that to me? Do you even know me at all?”

“No, I don’t think I do.” she said, turning to leave.

Burying his pride, Draco reached out to grab her hand. “Please, Hermione. Just one last thing.”

“What?”

“What precautions have you – ” he swallowed, “Potter and Weasley put into place to keep you safe?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come _on_ , ‘enemies of the heir, beware’? Whoever it is, they’re after Muggle-borns. You have to be on alert.”

Hermione was absolutely not going to give him the pleasure of admitting she had already been concerned about this, or acknowledge that neither Harry nor Ron had considered her the way Draco had.

“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself so if that’s all you had to say, I’m leaving,” she said, storming from the room.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not very happy with this chapter - I don't think it flows particularly well but I just want to get to the good bits (aka years four and up!) so I am rushing a bit.  
> Please do bear with me, I promise it will pick up soon!

Hermione, Harry, and Ron were sat in the common room discussing recent events.

“Who can it be, though?” she said in a quiet voice. “Who’d want all the Squibs and Muggle-borns out of Hogwarts?”

“Let’s think,” said Ron in mock puzzlement. “Who do we know who thinks Muggle-borns are scum?”

He glanced at Hermione. She looked back, unconvinced.

“If you’re talking about Malfoy – ”

“Of course I am!” Ron replied. “You heard what he said to you. Come on, you’ve only got to look at his foul rat face to know it’s him.”

“Dra – Malfoy is definitely not the heir of Slytherin, it would be too obvious.”

“Look at this family,” Harry joined in. “The whole lot of them have been in Slytherin, he’s always boasting about it. They could easily be Slytherin’s descendants.”

Hermione knew she was on dangerous ground and had to be careful. Despite throwing the same accusation at Draco previously, she knew it wasn’t him. He had wanted to protect her. But obviously she couldn’t let her two friends know this.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione said, “While you two carry on with your conspiracy theories, I’m going to bed.”

* * *

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of activity and Hermione barely had time to think about the Chamber of Secrets, let alone Draco Malfoy.

Following the rogue Bludger attack (which turned out to be Dobby’s well-meaning attempt at protection) and Harry’s brief stay in the hospital wing, he had come to Hermione and Ron with plenty of new information. The trio now knew that the Chamber had been opened before and that it housed a monster.

Unfortunately, following the Duelling Club incident, Harry was now a prime suspect to be the heir of Slytherin. It didn’t help matters that Harry had been caught next to yet _another_ victim in the corridors.

Given everything, the three of them decided to stay at Hogwarts over the Christmas holidays. Despite Harry and Ron's disputes, they had to agree that it would be beneficial being able to access the library regularly for their research.

Time continued to pass and Hermione and Draco had reached, what she called, ‘an awkward truce’. They had yet to properly discuss what had happened on the Quidditch pitch, but they were not actively fighting anymore either.

* * *

Leaving the Great Hall with Harry and Ron one morning, Harry suddenly gave a cry of alarm and shouted, “The voice! I just heard it again, didn’t you?”

While Ron just shook his head, wide-eyed, Hermione clapped a hand to her forehead. “I think I’ve just understood something! I’ve got to get to the library.”

Hermione sprinted away, up the stairs. She couldn’t believe it was only occurring to her _now,_ when she had been piecing bits of information together for weeks: Hagrid’s expulsion, Harry being a Parselmouth, a disembodied voice, people (students, animals, and ghosts) being petrified. Finally, she thought, it was all starting to make sense.

Entering the almost deserted library, Hermione headed directly for the ‘Magical Creatures’ section and plucked out a worn copy of Newt Scamander’s ‘Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them’ _._ Scanning the pages, she quickly found ‘B’: B for Basilisk.

“ _A gigantic serpent possessed of extraordinary powers… May reach up to fifty feet in length… Uncontrollable except by Parselmouths… Exceptionally venomous fangs…”_

And there it was: “ _Its most dangerous means of attack is the gaze of its large yellow eyes. Anyone looking directly into these will suffer instant death_.”

Hermione gasped; her suspicions proven correct. The reason each individual had been petrified rather than killed was because _none of them were looking directly at the Basilisk_.

She was about to close the book when the air around her became almost painfully cold. Shivering, she glanced across the dimly lit library and noticed a trail of spiders marching towards the nearest window. Hermione’s stomach dropped, she knew what was near.

Silently apologising to Newt Scamander, and promising to fix his book as soon as she could, Hermione quietly tore out the relevant page and clutched it in her hand. She drew out a compact mirror from her satchel and began using it to look around corners.

Nearing the exit, Hermione spotted a Ravenclaw student she knew to be Penelope Clearwater. Without hesitation she went quickly towards the girl and explained what she had found and the importance of staying together. Penelope must have seen the fear in Hermione’s eyes because she stood up and left without complaint.

Unfortunately, they were not fast enough.

Peering into the mirror for a second time, Hermione’s stomach plummeted. The last thing she saw were two, enormous, yellow slitted eyes.


	15. Chapter 15

There was a faint light beginning to creep into the room when Hermione stirred, noticing someone sat in a chair at the side of her bed. Through heavy eyelids she murmured, “…Hello?”

A head shot up. “Thank Godric, you’re awake.”

“Draco?”

“It’s me”, he said, reaching for her hand.

“You shouldn’t be here, what if someone sees you?”

“Honestly at this point I really couldn’t care less.”

Hermione gazed at him. “I thought we hated each other?”

“These are _not_ the first words you're supposed to say upon awakening from your lengthy, glorified nap!"

“What am I meant to say?”

Dramatically, Draco pretended to swoon. “Woe is me, where on earth am I? Please someone, I beg of you, tell me how long I have been under!”

She laughed weakly. “Merlin, give me a Basilisk any day.”

“Don’t say that,” he replied, suddenly serious.

“Sorry,” Hermione whispered. “So how long _has_ it been?”

“A long time, weeks. Too many weeks.”

She sat up suddenly, attempting to ignore the room spinning around her. “WEEKS? I’m going to be _so_ far behind on my work. And EXAMS? Draco, when are the exams?!”

Laughing Draco said smugly, ”Okay, better. That’s more what I was expecting from this exchange.”

Hermione scowled at him and lay gingerly back down. They were silent for a few moments.

“I can’t stay much longer,” he said, noticing that Hermione was already beginning to tire. “Potter and Weasley will be here soon and they’ll want to tell you all about their ridiculous escapades, I’m sure.”

She nodded. “Will you come back? I - I’d like to talk properly.”

“Of course, I’ll be here as soon as I can.”

Draco watched as her eyelids fluttered shut. His heart clenched.

* * *

Hermione was exhausted but happy. She had spent hours with Harry and Ron in the hospital wing whilst they filled her in on everything that had occurred over the weeks she was petrified. Hermione was so relieved that everyone was okay and that the boys had found her torn out library book page. She couldn’t believe Harry and Ginny had each communicated with You-Know-Who through a _diary_.

Later that evening Draco had been able to sneak back in to see her again.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” he asked.

“Not bad, tired though.”

“Have Potter and Weasley been catching you up on their death-defying stunts?”

“Yep, all up to date now,” Hermione nodded.

Draco paused, looking at her carefully. “Are you sure you’re alright? You look like your brain is running two conversations at once right now.”

Biting her lip she said, “Draco… did you know anything about a diary?”

“A diary? What do you mean?”

Hermione reflected on her last conversation with Harry. He had told her that it was Lucius Malfoy who gave Ginny the possessed diary which had, ultimately, led to the Chamber of Secrets being opened. Since then, Hermione had been worrying that Draco had known what was going on all along.

She told Draco everything she had heard. He stared at her incredulously.

“My father did _what_?”

Hermione tilted her head slightly and considered the boy in front of her. “It's true, he hoped to ‘cleanse’ the school.”

Draco struggled with how quickly he believed her accusations, he was a terrible son. Why couldn’t he muster up even the slightest indignation? He put his head in his hands.

“I’m sorry,” Hermione said quietly. “I know you told me, but… I don’t think I quite realised the sort of man your father was, until now.”

“Does it make me a bad person that I don’t hate him?” he asked. “I’ve grown up wanting to be _exactly_ like him, all I ever wanted was for him to be proud of me. But, to do that, is this the sort of thing he’d have me do?”

Hermione’s heart ached for him and she wished there were something she could say or do that would take his pain away.

Reaching out for him she said, “No, Draco, of course it doesn’t – he’s your father. I think that the type of person you are depends on how you act and how you treat other people. It’s your choice whether you want to be like him or not, as is whether you want him to be proud of you, or to be proud of yourself.”

Draco didn’t know what to say so he just squeezed his friend's hand. The more time he spent away from home, the more he came to acknowledge the naïve bubble he had grown up in. And whilst he no longer saw the world in black and white terms, there was something much scarier about this new grey.

Eventually, Hermione interrupted the silence, “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know, I’m not used to questioning myself so much,” he replied honestly, and then chuckled. “I’m used to being right all the time and constantly curse the day I met you, so keen you are to rid me of my title.”

She grinned. “It’s a sad truth everyone must eventually face, I’m afraid.”

Draco pulled a lock of her hair playfully. “Your modesty is something I like most about you, you know.”

“Oh, hush.”

* * *

It was the final day of term and Hermione had been released from the infirmary a few days prior. The entire school were in high spirits due exams having been cancelled.

Both Draco and Hermione were so pleased to have gone back to how they used to be around each other that neither wanted to bring up the ‘Quidditch Incident’. However, summoning her Gryffindor courage, Hermione broached the topic at their last meeting before the summer holidays.

“I’m sorry, you know, about saying you bought your way onto the Slytherin team.”

“I know you are,” Draco replied. “You knew how much effort I put into training and you chose to say the one thing that would hurt me most in that moment. I snapped and did the same thing to you. I wish I hadn’t.”

She nodded. “Please don’t say it again?”

“Never.”

Sighing, Hermione said, “Sometimes I feel like all we do is fight. What’s it going to be next time?”

“Something ridiculous, I’m sure,” Draco confirmed. “I imagine you’ll fling yourself into whatever dangerous situation befalls Hogwarts next year. It really is quite distressing, you realise, being your friend.”

“Well you’re argumentative, challenging to be around, and always have to have the last word!”

“Sorry, are you describing yourself?”

Hermione snorted. “No, then I’d be saying I’m hard-working and logical.” 

“Ah yes, my two finest traits. Don’t forget intelligent!”

“You’re incorrigible, Malfoy.”

“Hence why we are destined to remain friends,” he smirked.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione changed the subject and they stayed talking for a while longer. Eventually it was time for them both to finish packing and head for the Hogwarts Express.

This year, Hermione gave Draco a kiss on the cheek as well as his usual hug. He thought it might just be enough to get him through the summer without her.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've made it to Year 3, woo hoo!

Hermione was walking down the corridor of the Hogwarts Express with Harry, Ron, and her new cat, looking for an empty compartment. They were on their way back to school after the summer holidays and already Harry had a glint in his eye that almost certainly meant he had something secretive to tell them.

They let themselves into a compartment with one other occupant, a man sitting fast asleep next to the window. The stranger was wearing an extremely shabby set of wizard’s robes which had been darned in several places. He looked ill and exhausted. Though quite young, his light-brown hair was flecked with grey.

Hermione immediately noticed his small, battered suitcase which read: ‘Professor R. J. Lupin’. She wondered what he was doing travelling on the train, which was normally exclusively reserved for students.

As they sat down Ron asked, “So what were you going to tell us?”

Harry told them about overhearing Mr and Mrs Weasley’s argument to do with Sirius Black and the warning Mr Weasley gave him.

Hermione had her hands over her mouth. “Sirius Black escaped to come after _you_? Oh, Harry… you’ll have to be really, really careful. Don’t go looking for trouble!"

“I don’t go looking for trouble,” said Harry, nettled. “Trouble usually finds _me_.”

Hermione wasn’t entirely sure about this, but chose to hold her tongue. _Merlin_ , she thought, Draco’s going to have a field day when he hears this.

The trio spoke a little more about Sirius Black before moving on to discussing Hogsmeade. Hermione was frustrated that she had to try and dissuade the boys from sneaking Harry into the village.

The Hogwarts Express moved steadily north and the scenery outside the window became wilder and darker while the clouds overhead thickened. Mid-afternoon, just as it had started to rain, Hermione heard familiar footsteps echo in the corridor.

“Well, look who it is,” drawled Draco Malfoy, pulling open the compartment door. “Potty and the Weasel.”

Crabbe and Goyle chuckled trollishly. Hermione caught Draco’s eye and couldn’t help but smile, despite the new nicknames he had invented for her friends. His eyes twinkled mischievously when he looked at her; he’d been trawling up and down the corridor looking for _his_ friend.

Draco continued, “I heard your father finally got his hands on some Galleons this summer, Weasley. Did your mother die of shock?”

Ron stood up so quickly he knocked Crookshanks’ basket to the floor. Professor Lupin gave a snort.

“Who’s that?” said Draco, taking an automatic step backwards.

“New teacher,” Hermione replied.

Harry got to his feet, in case he needed to hold Ron back. “What were you saying, Malfoy?”

Draco’s eyes narrowed, despite wanting to spend time in Hermione’s company, he wasn’t fool enough to pick a fight right under a teacher’s nose.

“C’mon,” he muttered frustratedly to Crabbe and Goyle, and they disappeared.

Moments later, the train began to slow down. Hermione was surprised, she hadn’t long checked her watch and they still had a fair way to travel. Suddenly, they jolted to a stop. Distant thuds and bangs told them that luggage had fallen out of the racks. Then, without warning, all the lamps went out and they were plunged into total darkness.

The ensuing chaos was amusing to begin with, especially when Neville and Ginny piled into their compartment. There were body parts everywhere and most of them ended being trodden on, sat on, and elbowed at least once. The atmosphere quickly changed, however, when they were introduced to a Dementor.

Hermione felt nauseous as she laid eyes on the cloaked figure standing in the compartment doorway. Its face was completely hidden beneath a hood and a glistening, grey, slimy-looking hand protruded from the cloak.

An intense cold swept over them all and Hermione saw Harry suddenly freeze and fall to the floor. Professor Lupin strode to the doorway and cast a spell whilst Hermione dropped to her knees. “Harry? Harry?”

He was twitching and Hermione could feel a cold sweat building across his forehead. She held onto him as he shook and, after what felt like hours, he finally opened his eyes.

With the help of Ron she heaved Harry back onto his seat and moved to check on Ginny. Harry was questioning the others about their reaction to the Dementor; he was embarrassed, she could tell.

Draco didn’t help matters once they arrived at the castle. He had brushed past her to reach Harry and block his way up the stone steps. “You _fainted_ , Potter? Is Longbottom telling the truth? You actually _fainted_?”

He was very aware that this wasn’t his most eloquent jab, but it was the only time he could be near Hermione. Just being in her vicinity gave him a sense of peace he rarely felt elsewhere. He quickly gave up his taunting, however, as Hermione was called out of the crowd by Professor McGonagall. Harry joined her but she looked back briefly to give Draco a small smile.

Hermione knew why she had been summoned to see the Head of Gryffindor and once Harry had been dismissed, she excitedly waited to receive the item she coveted.

“Miss Granger,” Professor McGonagall said. “You are still certain this is what you wish to do?”

“Oh yes Professor, I’ve been reading all about Time-Turners and their rules over summer. I can tell you everything I’ve learnt, if that would be helpful?”

“No, no, that’s quite alright, thank you.”

Minerva McGonagall was unhappy about providing a third-year student with such a dangerous item, particularly for something such as taking extra classes. Professor Dumbledore had, however, insisted it was for the best and who was she to argue with the Headmaster. Minerva really hoped that Albus knew what he was doing.

Hermione beamed as she was given the object attached to a thin gold chain. Carefully, she placed it around her neck, hiding it beneath her shirt.

“Alright then Miss Granger, please do be careful,” Professor McGonagall said kindly. “Now, let’s get you and Mr Potter to the feast.”

* * *

A few weeks into term, Hermione and Draco were sat together at their usual spot in the library. Hermione was keenly aware that they were sat slightly closer than usual. She thought there was something different about him this year. He was certainly taller than her now and his shoulders had filled out a bit. Draco had also stopped gelling his hair so excessively and Hermione was surprised to find she liked the way it fell into his eyes.

“Are you staring at me, Granger?”

She blushed. “I’m just looking at that stupid piece of hair in your face. How can you even see with it flopping around like that?”

Draco pushed his slender fingers through his hair, ruffling it all up. “Better?”

“Ugh…” Hermione muttered, looking away. _H_ _ow_ did that make him look even cuter?

“So, what did you think of Divination?” he asked, curiously.

This, at least, took her mind off her own treacherous thoughts. “Oh Merlin, it was the most ridiculous lesson I’ve ever been in. Who is Professor Trelawney kidding? The whole subject seems very woolly. She predicted Harry would die this year based on _tea leaves_ for goodness sake.”

Draco smirked. “Hermione Granger, not liking a lesson? What has the world come to?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Oh yes, and what do you think of Divination, Draco Malfoy?”

“Utter crap, that’s why _I’m_ not taking it.”

Hermione huffed and started pulling more parchment from her satchel.

“Granger,” Draco said, his chin brushing against her shoulder. “They’ve messed up your timetable. Look, they’ve got you down for about ten subjects a day. Even _you_ couldn’t manage that.”

“I’ll manage. I’ve fixed it all with Professor McGonagall.”

“What are you on about? You can’t take Divination, Muggle Studies, _and_ Arithmancy all at nine o’clock.”

“Don’t be silly,” Hermione said shortly. “Of course, I won’t be in three classes at once.”

“Well, then – ”

“Draco, please, just leave it."

He glared at her. Why was she hiding something from him? “Tweedledee and Tweedledum might not press you any further, but I’m not them.”

“How do you know about Alice in Wonderland?” she queried.

Draco waved his hand. “Lewis Carroll was a wizard, clearly. Don’t change the subject.”

“Please just trust me?”

“Fine, but you owe me.”

Hermione knew what he wanted. “Oh no, not that.”

Grinning, Draco shrugged. “Your secret or my plan.”

“Draco! It’s not fair on Harry to prance around the school pretending to be a Dementor. It was awful to see him on the train.”

He leant back in his chair nonchalantly. “Your choice.”

“FINE! Fine. You do your stupid prank, but it can’t last long and no fighting afterwards.”

Hermione had never quite appreciated the phrase ‘the cat who got the cream’ until seeing Draco’s face in that moment.

She sighed wearily. This boy would be the end of her.


	17. Chapter 17

Hermione was pleased to get out of the castle a few days later. The sky was clear, pale grey, and the grass was springy and damp underfoot as she set off with Harry and Ron for their first ever Care of Magical Creatures class.

Ron and Hermione weren’t speaking to each other due to his utter refusal to understand that Crookshanks was behaving _as cats do_. He was the one who ought to take better care of Scabbers, rather than berating her ginger pet.

Hagrid was waiting for the class at the door of his hut. He stood in his moleskin overcoat, with Fang the boarhound at his heels, looking impatient to start.

“C’mon, now, get a move on!” he called. “Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin’ up! Everyone here? Right, follow me!”

Hagrid led them to the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest and the students found themselves outside a kind of paddock. There was a bit of a to-do when he realised no one had been able to open their books (“yeh’ve got ter _stroke_ ‘em”) and Draco, who wasn’t the biggest fan of Hagrid anyway, had said loudly, “Oh really witty, giving us books that try and rip our hands off!”

Eventually, Hagrid was able to get back on track with his lesson plan and told them all about Hippogriffs, which were extremely bizarre creatures. They had the bodies, hind legs and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings and heads of what seemed to be giant eagles, with cruel, steel-coloured beaks and large, brilliantly orange eyes. The talons on their front legs were half a foot long and deadly looking.

Hermione was initially concerned about how dangerous these animals could be, but was soon reassured as Harry not only petted one, he even rode on its back. She risked a glance towards Draco and realised, too late, that he had been a little _too_ reassured by Harry’s experience.

“This is very easy,” Draco drawled. “I knew it must have been, if Potter could do it… I bet you’re not dangerous at all, are you? You ugly, great brute?”

It happened in a flash of steely talons; Draco let out a scream and next moment, Hagrid was wrestling the Hippogriff back into his collar as he strained to get to Draco, who lay curled in the grass, blood blossoming over his robes.

“I’m dying!” he yelled, as the class panicked. “I’m dying, look at me! It’s killed me!”

Hermione’s breath caught and she made to run towards him. Noticing Harry and Ron looking oddly at her, she changed direction and veered towards the gate, pulling it open for Hagrid to carry Draco through. As they passed, Hermione saw that there was a long, deep gash in Draco’s arm. Blood splattered the grass and Hagrid ran with him, up the slope towards the castle.

Very shaken, the Care of Magical Creatures class followed at a slow walk. Hermione kept time with them and hated every second. The Slytherins were all shouting about Hagrid and she noticed an uncomfortable feeling bloom in the pit of her stomach when Pansy Parkinson announced she was going to check on Draco.

* * *

Hermione was frustrated that she hadn’t been able to sneak into the hospital wing to visit Draco. Whilst, logically, she knew that Madam Pomfrey would easily be able to heal the cut, she still couldn’t help but worry excessively. That was, until she noticed Draco’s swagger as he reappeared in classes late on Thursday morning.

“How is it Draco?” simpered Pansy. “Does it hurt much?”

“Yeah,” said Draco, looking around the classroom to find Hermione. He gazed briefly at her with large puppy dog eyes. She narrowed hers.

They were making a new potion in their lesson today and Draco set up his cauldron right next to Hermione, Harry, and Ron. He winked at her when everyone else had turned towards Snape.

It was official, Hermione decided: Draco Malfoy was a menace.

He spent the majority of the lesson having Harry and Ron cut up his ingredients (he didn’t dare ask Hermione as he knew he’d come out with much more than a sore arm) and then requesting to swap when they weren’t quite up to his standard. Seething, Hermione had taken to completely ignoring the three of them until she overheard the name Sirius Black.

“Thinking of trying to catch Black single-handed, Potter?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Harry shrugged.

“Of course, if it were me,” Draco said quietly, “I’d have done something before now. I wouldn’t be staying in school like a good boy. I’d be out there looking for him?”

“What are you talking about, Malfoy?” Ron snapped.

“Don’t you _know_ , Potter,” breathed Draco, his grey eyes narrowed.

“Know what?”

Draco let out one of his sneering laughs that Hermione hated. “Maybe you’d rather not risk your neck,” he said. “Want to leave it to the Dementors, do you? But if it was me, I’d want revenge. I’d hunt him down myself.”

She looked at Draco with confusion and he just shrugged. Hermione would have to question him in the library later.

* * *

Draco found her fast asleep at their desk that evening. Her head lay turned slightly to the side, a small smile on her face, and her bushy hair was laid out around her like a halo. He sat down and had the oddest urge to gently stroke her cheek.

Quietly, he pulled at a piece of parchment that was nestled beneath her arm. Glancing at it he sighed. No wonder she was exhausted, this list of homework assignments was beyond ridiculous. He left her to sleep as he made a start on his own work.

Eventually, a small voice said, “Draco?”

“Finally,” he drawled. “You’ve been rather rubbish company so far this evening.”

Hermione huffed, still half asleep. “Sorry, you should have gone to see your girlfriend _Pansy_ instead.”

“What are you talking about, Granger?”

She was suddenly wide awake. “Nothing.”

“Please,” said Draco, secretly pleased at the jealous tone he noted in her voice. “Never use her name and ‘girlfriend’ in the same sentence again.”

Hermione tried not to look smug. “You don’t really talk about your friends, you know.”

“Well, I guess you’re my only _real_ one,” Draco replied. “How desperately sad.”

“What about Crabbe and Goyle?”

He gave a short laugh. “They’re useful at times I suppose. Blaise and Theo are okay too, we’re just very careful about what we say to each other.”

“So…” Hermione smiled sweetly, “does that mean we’re best friends?” Draco choked as she continued, laughing, “Shall we make each other friendship bracelets? What colours would you like? I could –”

She wasn’t able to finish her sentence as Draco had thrown three quills at her head.

“Friendship bracelets, my arse,” he muttered darkly.

Hermione’s smile faded as she remembered what she was meant to be questioning him about. “What were you talking about earlier when you said Harry ought to want revenge on Sirius Black?”

“Oh, that.”

“Yes, _that_ , right after you were being the world’s biggest prat.”

Draco glared at her. “I was in exceptional pain, I’ll have you know, still am! I don’t see you looking after me.”

“No, I’m not an idiot.”

He huffed in a very Hermione-like fashion and told her that, prior to term starting, he had caught bits of his father on a fire-call: “ _Yes, Avery, it is correct that Black has escaped… The Potter’s secret keeper… Betrayed him… He’s not been seen again since the Muggle culling_.”

“That doesn’t tell us anything,” Hermione said in confusion. “Why would you jump to Harry wanting revenge?”

“It’s obvious isn’t it? Black was the Potter’s secret keeper, he betrayed them by telling the Dark Lord which means it was _his_ fault they were murdered,” Draco shrugged. “And, even if I’m wrong, hopefully it’ll get Potter into some trouble.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know if he gets into any trouble, so will I?”

Draco hadn’t considered that in his spur of the moment barbs towards The-Boy-Who-Spends-Too-Much-Time-With-Hermione. _Bloody Gryffindors._

Hermione continued, “I suppose I can see some of the logic. I just don’t know if it’s enough to tell Harry…”

“Don’t,” he said, to protect her. He was certain The Chuckle Brothers would run into danger without consideration otherwise. “I’ll see if I can find out any more and let you know.”

She yawned and briefly, too briefly, laid her head on his shoulder. “Thank you.”

Draco’s heart almost burst from his chest. Merlin, what was happening to him.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, we’re going to whizz through some bits now… I hope it doesn’t feel too disjointed. There were just some conversations I really wanted to include but without taking up one hundred chapters!

Hermione was sat with Ron, who was finally speaking to her again, in the buzzing Gryffindor common room one evening when Harry threw himself between them, having just returned from Quidditch practice.

“What’s happened?” he asked.

“First Hogsmeade weekend,” replied Ron, pointing at a notice that had appeared on the battered old notice board. “End of October, Halloween.”

“Harry, I’m sure you’ll be able to go next time,” Hermione said. “They’re bound to catch Black soon, he’s been sighted once already.”

Whilst she still felt bad that she hadn’t told him about Draco’s suspicions, Hermione realised that they had made the right decision when Harry and Ron continued thinking of ways to sneak him into the village. Eventually agreeing to ask Professor McGonagall.

To nobody’s surprise, McGonagall declined to sign his permission form. So, on Halloween morning, Harry sat looking very sorry for himself at the Gryffindor table. Hermione and Ron tried to cheer him up but it didn’t seem to work very well.

Draco scowled as he saw _his_ friend and the Weasel walk alone together into Hogsmeade. They were standing far too close to each other.

* * *

A few days later, Hermione shuffled into the Great Hall with the other Gryffindors after discovering that Sirius Black had made an attempt to get into their common room. She shuddered at the realisation of how close he had come to finding Harry.

Ten minutes later, they were joined by the students from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. She immediately caught sight of Draco and, whilst very few people would notice anything different about him, Hermione could feel the worry emanating from him. The relief that filled his eyes when he caught sight of her made her breath catch in her throat.

Professor Dumbledore waved his wand and hundreds of soft purple sleeping backs appeared. Harry, Ron, and Hermione seized some bedding and withdrew to the side of the Hall. They spoke a little, whilst also listening to the rumours flying around the students.

Eventually, Percy shouted, “The lights are going out now!” and everything faded to black.

Hermione closed her eyes and, as she rolled over, she knocked into another body lying next to her. A scent almost as familiar as her own overcame her. “How did you get here?” she whispered so quietly it was almost inaudible.

“Everyone’s too excited to notice much of anything at the moment,” Draco replied. “I was so worried about you.”

Hermione was surprised, it was rare for him to be so forthcoming with his emotions. When he was, she knew how much it meant. She reached out to grasp his hand and he gently laced their fingers together.

Her heart pounded. “I’m okay, I wasn’t even in the tower.”

“You could have been though, from what I’ve heard it was very close.” Draco took a small breath, “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Hermione. You’re my best friend.”

Even as he said those last two words, he knew they didn’t quite match what he was feeling. But he didn’t know how else to describe it.

“Will you stay, for a while?” she asked, on the edge of sleep now.

“For as long as you want me.”

* * *

The school talked of nothing but Sirius Black for the next few days. The theories about how he had entered the castle became wilder and wilder.

The Fat Lady’s ripped canvas had been taken off the wall and replaced with the portrait of Sir Cadogan and his fat grey pony. Nobody was very happy about this.

Sir Cadogan spent half his time challenging people to duels, and the rest thinking up ridiculously complicated passwords, which he changed at least twice a day. In her near exhausted state, this was the last thing Hermione needed.

Unfortunately, life was not planning on making things any easier for her.

* * *

Hermione was not at all pleased. _Why_ had Fred and George thought it a good idea to give Harry, of all people, a magical map that all but encouraged rule breaking. When she had merely suggested that _of course_ he was going to hand it in to Professor McGonagall, he and Ron had stared at her as though she had grown an extra head.

That blasted map was the reason Harry had snuck into Hogsmeade to find her and Ron. Which had _subsequently_ led to them finding out that Sirius Black was Harry’s godfather and had been James Potter’s best friend. Not only that, but Draco had been right, Black was a traitor and had betrayed Harry’s parents.

He was a mess and there was nothing either Hermione or Ron could do to help him. Harry had barely spoken for the rest of the day, or the one after that. It was only when the common room had emptied for the Christmas holidays that he finally started talking again.

“Malfoy knows,” Harry said abruptly. “Remember what he said to me in Potions? He was right: I _do_ want to hunt him down, hurt him, get revenge."

Hermione was struck by the callousness in Harry’s voice but she could understand it, to a certain extent. After all, Black was the reason Harry had never even spoken to his parents. But ultimately, she knew it wouldn’t be what his parents wanted, and she told him this. It didn’t go down well and an awkward silence fell.

“Look,” said Ron, obviously casting around for a change of subject. "It’s the holidays! It’s nearly Christmas! Let’s – let’s go down and see Hagrid. We haven’t visited him for ages!”

“No!” said Hermione quickly. “Harry isn’t supposed to leave the castle, Ron – ” 

“Yeah, let’s go,” said Harry, sitting up. “I can ask him how come he never mentioned Black when he told me all about my parents!”

Further discussion of Sirius Black plainly wasn’t what Ron had had in mind. “Or we could have a game of chess,” he said hastily, “or Gobstones. Percy left a set – ”

“No, let’s visit Hagrid,” said Harry firmly.

So they got their cloaks from their dormitories and set off through the portrait hole, down through the empty castle, and out of the oak front doors.

They made their way slowly down the lawn, making a shallow trench in the glittering, powdery snow, their socks and the hems of their cloaks soaked and freezing. The Forbidden Forest looked as though it had been enchanted, each tree smattered with a dusting of silver.

Ron knocked, but there was no answer.

“He’s not out, is he?” said Hermione, who was shivering under her cloak.

After a few more minutes, and some unusual noises coming from the cabin, Hagrid opened the door. Tears were pouring down his weather-beaten cheeks.

“Oh Hagrid,” Hermione whispered. “What’s happened?”

He handed them a damp piece of parchment and then they understood. Lucius Malfoy had complained about Buckbeak after Draco had been attacked and now the case was being passed to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures.

“You’ll just have to put up a good strong defence, Hagrid,” said Hermione, sitting down and laying a hand on Hagrid’s massive forearm. “I’m sure you can prove Buckbeak is safe.”

The boys nodded vigorously, and Hagrid smiled weakly at them all.

* * *

The camaraderie the trio had shared in Hagrid’s hut was short-lived, and the rest of Hermione’s Christmas holidays dragged by. Harry and Ron had been stubbornly ignoring her after she informed Professor McGonagall about the Firebolt Harry had received. Hermione knew how excited they had been upon finding the present but, without any note of the sender, how could Harry risk using the broomstick?

She thought back to the Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff Quidditch match where a familiar wave of bitter cold had swept over the stadium. It was eerily silent and, slowly, at least a hundred Dementors had risen towards Harry. She had been absolutely terrified and then he had fallen.

Shuddering at the memory, Hermione turned quickly back to her Hippogriff research. Books were strewn all over the library table as she fervently worked through each and every one. She imagined that Draco would be appearing some time this evening as he was now back in the castle. Another issue for her to deal with.

“I’m sure I’ve read about a case of Hippogriff-baiting,” Hermione muttered to herself. “Where _is_ it?”

“Talking to yourself, Granger?” a voice behind her drawled. “First sign of madness, you know.”

She glared over her shoulder. “Why don’t you take a look at these books, _Malfoy_.”

“Oh,” was all he said.

“How long have you known?” Hermione asked him.

Draco sighed and slid into the seat next to her, subtly inhaling the scent he had missed so much. “A while now,” he admitted. “I wanted to tell you, I - I just wasn’t sure how, I knew you’d be mad at me.”

“You can’t not tell me things because you think I’ll be mad. That’s not how a friendship is supposed to work.”

“Yes, I realise that,” Draco frowned.

“Did you -” Hermione paused, taking a breath before continuing, “did you _want_ this to happen?”

“No, of course not. Once my father heard what had happened there was no stopping him. Father has very… specific ideas about how Hogwarts ought to be run and he wants Dumbledore out. The Hippogriff was just a means to an end; the more he can discredit the Headmaster, the better.”

“And, there’s nothing you can say to your father for him to change his mind?”

Draco looked her incredulously. “No, never. Merlin, I imagine he’d pass me over to the Dark Lord if he thought it would benefit him in some way.”

Her eyes widened. Hermione couldn’t even begin to imagine what it must have been like for Draco, growing up. Whilst he was made to believe he was better than everyone else, he was also essentially encouraged to have no free-will: no questioning, do as you’re told.

“I’m sorry, Draco,” Hermione said.

He shrugged. “It is what it is. But, for what it’s worth, I am sorry about the Hippogriff.”

“You could help me? I’m trying to get something together for his hearing.”

Draco knew it was futile, but just one glimpse into her hopeful eyes told him he could never refuse her anything. “Fine, Granger. How did you know this is exactly how I was hoping to spend my time, thank you for such a thoughtful gift.”

She stuck her tongue out at him and reached over for another book.


	19. Chapter 19

It was the morning of the Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw match and Harry was being heralded as some sort of Messiah as he strolled into the Great Hall with his Firebolt. Despite now having it back in his possession, Harry and Ron were still not speaking to Hermione.

“Sure you can manage that broom, Potter?” said a drawling voice.

Draco had arrived for a closer look, Crabbe and Goyle right behind him.

“Yeah, reckon so,” replied Harry casually.

“Got plenty of special features, hasn’t it?” said Draco, eyes glinting mischievously. “Shame it doesn’t come with a parachute, in case you get too near a _Dementor_.”

Crabbe and Goyle sniggered.

“Pity you can’t attach an extra arm to yours, Malfoy.”

The Gryffindor team laughed loudly, and he stalked away. The impending prank had been in Draco’s mind for a long time now, and today was the perfect opportunity. Potter deserved it for all the trouble he had been causing Hermione.

At quarter to eleven, the students began excitedly heading down to the pitch. Eventually the whistle blew, and the game began.

Hermione was reading yet another book in the desperate hopes that it would help Buckbeak, when she heard Cho Chang scream from her broom and point downwards. Getting up and peering over the edge of the stands she saw three Dementors on the pitch. Panic flooded through her but, as she looked back to Harry, he plunged his hand into the neck of his robes.

Whipping out his wand, Harry roared, “ _Expecto Patronum!_ ”

Something silver white, something enormous, erupted from the end of his wand. It shot directly at the Dementors and Harry drove his broom forward to catch the Snitch.

Whilst the Gryffindor’s burst into cheers around her, Hermione looked more closely at the crumpled heap of black material on the floor. She could see something… wriggling?

Suddenly, a pale face emerged gasping from the pile and Professor McGonagall stormed over, her rage palpable. Hermione could barely contain her laughter. There, in the middle of the Quidditch pitch were Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, and Marcus Flint, all struggling to extricate themselves from the long, black, hooded robes.

She would never let him hear the end of this.

* * *

Despite their continued silence towards her, Hermione made herself go over to Harry and Ron in the common room as soon as she received the letter from Hagrid.

Without preamble, she said, “He – he sent me this.”

Harry look confused but took the damp parchment from her. Enormous teardrops had smudged the ink so badly in places that it was very difficult to read.

_Dear Hermione,_

_We lost. I’m allowed to bring him back to Hogwarts._

_Execution date to be fixed._

_Beaky has enjoyed London._

_I won’t forget all the help you gave us._

_Hagrid_

“They can’t do this,” said Harry. “They can’t. Buckbeak isn’t dangerous.”

“Malfoy’s dad frightened the Committee into it,” said Hermione, wiping her eyes. “You know what he’s like. They’re a bunch of doddery old fools, and they were scared. There’ll be an appeal, though, there always is. Only I can’t see any hope… nothing will have changed.”

“Yeah, it will,” said Ron fiercely. “You won’t have to do all the work alone this time, Hermione. I’ll help.”

“Oh, Ron!”

She couldn’t help herself. Hermione flung her arms around Ron’s neck and broke down completely. She had her friends back, and they were going to help.

* * *

Since Sirius Black had attempted to break into Hogwarts for a second time, the safety measures imposed on the students made it impossible for the trio to visit Hagrid in the evenings. Their only chance of talking to him was during Care of Magical Creatures lessons.

He seemed numb with shock at the verdict.

“S’all my fault,” Hagrid said. “Got all tongue-tied. They was all sittin’ there in black robes and an’ I kep’ droppin’ me notes and forgettin’ all them dates yeh looked up fer me, Hermione. An’ then Lucius Malfoy stood up an’ said his bit, and the Committee jus’ did exac’ly what he told ‘em…”

“There’s still the appeal!” said Ron fiercely. “Don’t give up yet, we’re working on it!”

At these words, Hagrid burst into tears, buried his head into a handkerchief, and hurried back towards his cabin.

“Look at him blubber!” Draco said derisively. “Have you ever seen anything quite as pathetic? He’s supposed to be our teacher!”

Harry and Ron both made furious moves towards Draco, but Hermione got there first – SMACK! She had slapped him around the face with all the strength she could muster. Draco staggered. Harry, Ron, Crabbe, and Goyle stood flabbergasted as Hermione raised her hand again.

“Don’t you _dare_ call Hagrid pathetic -”

“Hermione!” said Ron weakly, and he tried to grab her hand as she swung it back.

“Get _off_ , Ron!”

She pulled out her wand. Draco stepped backwards. Crabbe and Goyle looked at him for instructions, thoroughly bewildered.

“C’mon,” he muttered, and next moment, all three of them had disappeared into the passageways of the dungeons.

* * *

Hermione walked into their nook in the library incredibly sheepishly that evening. She was hoping that Draco wouldn’t be there but, unfortunately, she had no such luck. He had purposively positioned himself so that she could immediately see the mottled purple bruise on his cheek.

“Draco…” she began.

“Granger.”

“How are you?”

“I’m really fucking pissed off, Hermione.”

She couldn’t help but tilt her head and look at him curiously, she didn’t think she’d ever heard him swear before.

Draco waved his hands in front of her face. “Hello? Don’t go off into your head.”

“Sorry, yes, I’m here. I am _really_ sorry Draco. I don’t know what happened, I j - just…” she broke off, horrified to find her eyes filling with tears.

“No! Granger, no you can’t cry. _I’m_ the one having emotions right now, not you!”

Frantically swiping at her eyes Hermione said in a rush, “There’s no excuse for what I did, I was so overwhelmed with everything that was going on and, and, well you were there. You were doing my least favourite sneer – ”

“You’ve ranked my sneers?” Draco interrupted.

“In my head, I suppose, there are ones I prefer more than others – ”

“Please, go back to your original soliloquy.”

“Yes okay, so your face, and then you said those awful things. I don’t know, it felt like the wall I’d built around my emotions just broke. Does that make sense?”

Draco’s laugh was hollow, if only she knew how much sense it made.

Hermione continued, “I’m _so, so_ exhausted, all the time. Harry and Ron have spent weeks not talking to me, continuing to get into trouble even though a mass murderer is after one of them. I’ve been constantly researching information for Buckbeak and it hasn’t made an ounce of difference. Your father’s word is law, after all; who cares about the truth, right? I feel so helpless, all the time. I wanted to hurt someone, anyone. I wanted to hurt someone so maybe… m-maybe _I’d_ stop hurting.”

Draco felt his own walls shatter and pulled her roughly into his chest. He was almost a head taller than her now and could rest his chin just above her forehead. Gently stroking her back, Draco could feel Hermione shaking. Tugging them to the ground, he leant against the bookshelf and curled himself around her small frame.

They sat like this for a long while. Drifting in and out of consciousness, floating in the bask of their safe and warm cocoon.

Eventually, Hermione shifted towards him. Her breath tickled his face. “Why _did_ you say those things about Hagrid? I know you don’t like him, but it really wasn’t necessary.”

Draco hung his head. “I know that. Blaise has started making snide comments to me recently, saying I’ve ‘changed’ and that I’m ‘weak’. I can’t risk my father hearing that, Hermione. I don’t know what he would do to me. Or what if it made him start looking at me a bit more closely, and he found out about you?” he buried into her neck. “I can’t let that happen.”

“What are we going to do, Draco?”

“I don't know. But I'll always keep you safe."


	20. Chapter 20

_Lost appeal. They’re going to execute at sunset. Nothing you can do. Don’t come down. I don’t want you to see it. Hagrid._

Reflecting back, it was this letter that set off a sequence of events which, ultimately, led Hermione, Harry, and Ron to be the hospital wing’s current residents. Yet again.

She could hardly believe half the things that had come to light in less than twenty-four hours. Sirius Black was innocent, Harry had a godfather, Remus Lupin really was a werewolf, Peter Pettigrew had betrayed the Potters, and he had escaped for a second time.

For a while it had felt as though they had lost, yet again. Hermione recognised the familiar black pit steadily building in her stomach, the sense of helplessness that never ceased. That was, until Dumbledore reminded her of the invaluable item she currently possessed.

_“Miss Granger, three turns should do it.”_

Hermione and Harry had just slipped back inside the ward and, as she crept into her bed, she took a moment to acknowledge what they had achieved. Next second, Madam Pomfrey had come striding back out of her office.

“Did I hear the Headmaster leaving? Am I allowed to look after my patients now?”

She was in a very bad mood. Hermione and Harry thought it was best to accept their chocolate quietly. Madam Pomfrey stood over them, making sure they ate it, but Hermione could hardly swallow. She and Harry were waiting, listening, their nerves jangling.

As they took their fourth piece of chocolate, they heard a distant roar of fury echoing from somewhere above them. The voices became louder and she could tell it was Snape.

Cornelius Fudge, Snape, and Dumbledore came striding into the ward. Dumbledore alone looked calm. Indeed, he looked as though he was quite enjoying himself. Fudge appeared angry. But Snape was apoplectic.

“OUT WITH IT POTTER!” he bellowed. “WHAT DID YOU DO?”

“See here, Snape, be reasonable,” said Fudge. “This door’s been locked, we just saw –”

“THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!” Snape howled, pointing at Hermione and Harry. His face was twisted, spit was flying from his mouth.

“Calm down, man!” Fudge barked. “You’re talking nonsense!”

“YOU DON’T KNOW POTTER!” shrieked Snape. “HE DID IT. I KNOW HE DID IT.”

“That will do, Severus,” said Dumbledore quietly. “Think about what you are saying. Unless you are suggesting that Harry and Hermione are able to be in two places at once, I’m afraid I don’t see any point in troubling them further.”

Snape stood there, seething, staring from Fudge, who looked thoroughly shocked at his behaviour, to Dumbledore, whose eyes were twinkling behind his glasses. He whirled about, robes swishing behind him, and stormed from the ward.

* * *

When Hermione, Harry, and Ron left the hospital wing at noon next day, it was to find an almost deserted castle. The sweltering heat and the end of exams meant that everyone was taking full advantage of another Hogsmeade visit.

The trio spent some time together, simply lazing beside the lake, watching the giant squid waving its tentacles happily above the water. Harry had run off quickly once he heard that Lupin had resigned and was due to leave Hogwarts imminently, so Hermione took her moment and slipped away from Ron, heading to the library. She wasn’t sure whether Draco would be there, given the glorious day, but she wanted to try anyway.

Almost running towards their nook, Hermione beamed with relief. “You’re here!”

Draco couldn’t help but smile back at her. “Snape was in a foul mood this morning and I had a hunch it was because of you and the gruesome twosome.”

“Oh yes, he was raging when he left the hospital wing last night!”

“Ah good, the hospital wing again, it’s about time the Gryffindors moved their common room somewhere more appropriate.”

Hermione scowled but took him through everything that had happened up to the point they first arrived in the ward.

“But, I heard Black had escaped?”

“True, and there’s really quite a simple explanation for that,” she told him.

“Oh yes?”

“Well, you know I’ve been exhausted all year?”

“Yes, Granger. You’ve fallen asleep on me numerous times now. Like I’ve said before, I had come to expect more from our friendship.”

Ignoring him, Hermione continued, “So, Professor Dumbledore gave me permission to use a time-turner. I’ve been using it to manage my timetable, and that meant –”

“I’m sorry,” Draco interrupted, staring incredulously. “What now? Please, just repeat that.”

“I’ve been using a – ”

Draco cut her off with a wave of his hand. “Actually no, I don’t need to hear those words again. You’ve been using a _time-turner_ to attend _extra lessons_.”

Hermione opened her mouth and then closed it again.

“H-how was this sanctioned by the Ministry? How did _Dumbledore_ say this was okay? Actually, how could _anyone_ say this was okay?”

“It’s very important that I achieve a well-rounded education?” Hermione suggested.

“Granger, I have no words. You’re a liability.”

“ _Anyway_ , you’re missing the entire point here,” she chided. “The reason Buckbeak and Sirius escaped was because Harry and I used said time-turner to go back in time and sort out this whole mess.”

He paused. Blinking rapidly. “Time-related magic is _unstable_. You’re meant to _avoid_ serious breaches of time law. I’m fairly certain what you just told me would count as, you know, a _breach_.”

“I know what I’m doing Draco! We only went back three hours and we didn’t engage with our past selves. Mostly. _I_ didn’t, anyway.”

“Please, don’t tell me.”

Hermione smiled. "Anyway, you’ll be pleased to know I went to see Professor McGonagall this morning; I’ve decided to drop Muggle Studies. Honestly, the time-turner was driving me mad. Without that and Divination, I’ll be able to have a normal timetable again.”

“Thank Merlin,” Draco raised his hands to the sky dramatically.

“You’re ridiculous,” she laughed, poking his ribs. “What ever will I do without you for another whole summer?”

“I imagine it will be touch and go at points, but I’m sure you can make it through the pain”.

This year, as his self-proclaimed goodbye present, Draco was gifted with not one but _two_ hugs. He was also adamant that the kiss to his cheek briefly caught the corner of his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part one is FINISHED! Hermione and Draco have made it through their first three years of friendship, and we are now entering the next stage of their relationship ❤️


End file.
